BELTS
by L'Otarie
Summary: Fillmore and company, COPS-style! Rating may go up due to mentions of shirtless dudes, invented profanities and other situations.
1. Classroom Disturbance 10:20 am

**_Author's note: _****Fillmore! _is copyrighted by Scott Gimple and Disney,_ COPS _by John Langley and FOX and_ Bad Boys_ by Inner Circle._**

**_P.S.: I know, I have another "bun in the oven", so to speak… Think of this one as an interlude while I get the plotline of the other one sorted out. So just read and review!_**

_Bad kids, bad kids, whatcha gonna say,_

_Whatcha gonna say, 'coz they're coming your way?_

_Bad kids, bad kids, whatcha gonna say,_

_Whatcha gonna say, 'coz they're coming your way?_

_You're just eight and you wanna learn good traits,_

_You go to school and you learn all the rules_

_Don't make yourself a damn bloody fool_

_So when things get hot you just stay cool – _

_Bad kids, bad kids, whatcha gonna say,_

_Whatcha gonna say, 'coz they're coming your way?_

_Bad kids, bad kids, whatcha gonna say,_

_Whatcha gonna say, 'coz they're coming your waaay…_

BELTS…

…_is written on location with the young men and women of school law enforcement. All suspects are innocent until proven guilty by a proper disciplinary forum._

X MIDDLE SCHOOL

X MIDDLE SCHOOL SAFETY PATROL

The first image on the camera is the sparsely-peopled room is that of a bald, bespectacled young man, in green V-necked t-shirt and jeans, fitting on the sash of a Safety Patrol officer. He seems calm and serene, almost as if not minding the camera.

"That's the ticket," he mutters. He then checks his kit. "Badge and ID-check, mini-notebook-got it, pencil-have it, walkie-talkie…" He feels up his left pocket. "Present."

OFFICER CORNELIUS FILLMORE

He now looks to the camera. No feeling of surprise. "Cornelius Fillmore, Safety Patrol Officer, seventh grade. Been here since the last part of the first quarter. Hard to believe, but I was a thug once, but one of the older belts – he's in Tennessee now, the Patrol Sheriff, last time I heard – he kinda set me straight, and here I am now. He used to be my partner, by the way." A pale-complexioned girl in black ensemble (sleeveless shirt, skirt and boots) enters the camera view.

OFFICER INGRID THIRD

"My new partner, Ingrid Third. Moved here some months back. Was involved in a stinkbomb explosion but she was cleared; she's got a history like mine…"

"_Almost_ like yours Fillmore…" she interjects as she wears her own sash and checks her own gear.

"What she said… Anyway, she's proven to be very sharp as an investigator… sharp mind, photographic memory, quick reflexes… almost as if she was cut out for the job."

She just nods in slight embarrassment. "Stop the flattery Cornelius, we're going on duty in… three minutes tops."

"Got it." The partners leave for the corridor.

*****

10:20 AM

CLASSROOM DISTURBANCE

"We've got a bad one in classroom 208 here…" Fillmore explains as he and Ingrid pace the stairs to the second floor classrooms. "Someone started blowing spitballs on one of the students. Turns out he had his own spitball arsenal, and everything went downhill from there…"

They now approach the classroom. Both the teacher and another Safety Patroller are trying to subdue two students, one lanky, the other stocky, preventing them from pouncing on each other. Profanities stream out of the perps' pixellated faces.

"All right, all right," Fillmore starts off loudly, "what's this all about-hey!" He picks off a spitwad from his left face as he gives chase to another perp. Fortunately Ingrid tackles the other spitballer, another stocky lad in a hockey jersey and jeans, and so brings him to the front of the classroom with the other two. The footage then cuts to Fillmore interrogating one of the persons quarreling, now seated on the floor with the teacher keeping close tabs on the latter.

"Okay, that didn't start out so well, so I'm repeating myself – what the heck happened here?"

"It's his fault, that jerk," the pixellated guy in blue polo shirt and khaki shorts answers. "I was minding my own business when I was spitwadded, and so I had to defend myself…"

"That true, Mr. Larkin?" he asks the teacher.

"I can vouch for him on that – but I think he came prepared…"

"No, sir, I was just mindin' my own business…"

"I'll take it that's real, man," Fillmore acknowledges, with a bit of skepticism. "Why'd they target you?"

"They're up to no good… they're bullies… good-for-nothings…"

He's now checking the 'victim's' bag. "And how were you able to fight back with a stream of spitballs yourself, huh?"

*****

The scene next cuts to Ingrid interrogating her own suspect, a stocky guy, face also pixellated, but this time with a yellow golf shirt and jeans, this time outside the classroom. The other officer, a tall, heavily-tanned and blue-haired guy in brown jacket and khaki slacks, keeps watch beside him together with another pixellated face.

OFFICER JOSEPH ANZA

"So what's with the spitball volley a while ago?" she asks the other suspect.

"That other guy… he duped us… those Smoits he gave us were fake," the goon explained.

"So you and your… uhh, posse decided to settle this with him in a classroom setting?"

The suspect shrugs it off. "Yeah, only place we could meet him…"

She nods the whole time. "Have you searched them Anza?"

The other officer shrugged. "Not yet through with it– Fillmore's on the case though…"

"He'd better… Our 'innocent victim' is looking guiltier now…"

"Agreed…" Anza picks up his walkie-talkie and switches the frequency. "Dispatch to HQ, this is Patrol 106, repeat, this is Patrol 106, need back-up to transport detainees back to HQ, over."

A voice trying to go for a tenor answers. "Patrol 106, found two, should be on the way now, over."

"O'Farrell, stop with the funny voice impressions, over."

"Wha-what? How'd you-"

"Just get them here, will you?"

"Sure thing, over." Anza pockets his radio, rolling his eyes. "He's just having a power trip with the dispatch.

Ingrid just shook her head in pity. "I'm heading back in the classroom if back-up gets here."

*****

Back in the classroom, Fillmore empties the pouch of his own suspect's red plaid backpack. "Dawg, whadda we have here?" He gets a fistful of collectible coupons from the pack, along with some small crunched-up strips of pad paper. "You're as guilty as hell, man…"

The eyes of the 'victim' go into 'deer-in-headlights' mode for a brief while. He comes to shortly. "Uhh, I don't know how it got there?"

"Close but no egg roll man," the officer replies as he looks at one of the Smoits carefully. "Looks like it was printed on… computer paper. And there's wads of them inside…" He eyes the perp again."Sir, I think we nabbed ourselves a counterfeiter."

"So this is a vendetta of some sort?" Mr. Larkin asks as he looks at the student.

"No, I SWEAR, I DON'T KNOW WHERE THOSE CAME FROM…"

"Sure you don't…" He zips the bag and lays three bundles of fake Smoits on the teacher's desk. "I'm guessing those guys who spitwadded you were, uhhh…"

"… Satisfied customers, the both of them," Ingrid answers as she comes in carrying a bundle of Smoits taken from the two other suspects earlier. "Our victim was apparently running a scam and this whole affair was a payback."

"Anza doing fine with the two other guys?"

"He called Karen and Bart in – the two perps aren't going anywhere far…" She notes the bundles on the table, and the suspect's frightened face. "Crackers, that's pretty incriminating…"

"I'm telling you ma'am Officer, I'm not even sure how I got involved…" A glare from her makes him swallow his next words.

Fillmore takes over. "Here's what we'll do, okay? We're gonna settle this back at HQ. You better hope your story holds water, because if we find out you're lying, your butt gets a more serious detention time, 'kay?" He looks at the new suspect more intently. "I've been with this kind of crud before, and I can tell you're hiding something. Let out what you have now or back at HQ, but I promise you, conceal anything further and you get in the cooler. Feel me, man? You feelin' me?"

"Y-y-yes, chief," he replies, shaking.

"Good… we'll be taking you back. Sir, if we may?"

"He's yours now, I guess…"

The two now begin walking, Fillmore with perp in hand. It's his black-clad partner's turn to face the camera. As she concludes the narration of the video the three suspects are seen being led away downstairs to the HQ.

"He's facing serious time for fraud, and those two for disruptive class behavior. From what I recall the two others also have a backlog of cases concerning intimidation and extortion, so they're not simply the wronged party here. If our friend here's lying – and all indications point to that – he's going down. I'm pretty sure he's a small fry though – these are high-class counterfeits. We'll have the Lab look at them. For now, though, we just have these guys."

*****

**_Well, that's about it… More scenarios coming up soon – we're going for one per chapter. If you're interested in any new ideas, just e-mail them at or submit them through messaging (if you're a member). Ideas, even whole scripts, will be credited._**


	2. Attempted Truancy 10:15 am

**_Author's note: Yep, another chapter. And yes, the chapters are one-shot ones. No, it will not be all Fillmore/Third, all the time – I'm making sure that the other guys and some extras get their time in the camera too, along with our delinquents. No, none of these vignettes are in any chronological order. _**

**_And as usual, trademarks are found on the first chapter._**

BELTS

_Written with the help of the young men and women of school law enforcement. All suspects are innocent until proven guilty by a proper disciplinary forum._

X MIDDLE SCHOOL

10:15 AM

ATTEMPTED TRUANCY

Fillmore is seated on a bench, looking at the corridors. Ingrid emerges leftward from a vending machine, bottle of fruit juice at hand.

"Dawg, it's quiet here…" he mutters to himself.

"Quiet's good…" his partner replies, opening the bottle and taking sips. She stares at the camera. "Recess is a busy time here – socializing in the cafetorium, reading time in the library, surfing in the computer labs, doing Safety Patrol business… it's basically primetime." Another sip from the bottle. "It's peak hours for shenanigans too – this and lunch period sees some outbreaks of deviant behavior from the deviant percentile of the student population…" She turns right and elbows her partner. "Fillmore. Turn slowly at three o'clock – possible class-cutter at the ready."

"Checkin' it out babe," he notes. "Short, hatless. Looking left to right." Camera switches discreetly and briefly to the right to note said student. "Looks like he's gonna make a run for it…"

Both officers stand up and begin walking briskly in the class-cutter's direction. The latter notices, however, and paces himself briskly as well. The two come close enough to apprehend him.

"Safety Patrol here may we-hey!" The suspect speeds off, much to their consternation. "FREEZE!" Ingrid patches through her two-way radio now, falling behind her partner significantly. "CODE THREE IN PROGRESS! BACKUP NEEDED NOW!"

The camera follows the pursuit – down the halls, through a woodcraft shop, and nearing a hallway window overlooking a side street. It looks like the truant might make it.

"Back-up available, please determine location," the voice at the other end acrackles on Ingrid's handset.

"West Corridor – urgent!" she exclaims in response.

"On their way, over and out."

And just as luck would have had it, the suspect trips on his shoelace. The next scene shoes him trying to resist arrest as Fillmore tries to subdue him.

"All right man, end of the line!" he exclaims as he tries to pick the other boy up.

"But you don't understand bro, I was-"

"Playin' hookie? And please don't call me bro, doesn't make you look good."

"C'mon, give this young man a break, you feelin' me?"

Ingrid just shrugs as she pockets her walkie-talkie and helps subdue the suspect. "He's right, that talk coming from you is-hey!-beneath your human dignity…"

*****

Skip a few moments later. Two other persons arrive. One is a purple-haired East Asian with pink highlights, wearing a pink shirt and jeans; the other is a freckled redhead with a green short-sleeved polo shirt, and jeans as well. The former is having a chat with Ingrid while the latter is standing guard with Fillmore, eyeing the class-cutter who was seated on the floor. The camera turns to the two girls as they converse.

"Yes, he's a regular…" Ingrid looks askance at the perp. "This guy's been cutting classes for six straight weeks after lunch for various invalid reasons, and was caught twice prior to this." The other officer shakes her head in dry lamentation.

OFFICER KAREN TEHAMA

"You're wasting your photographic memory reading those files, Ingrid," she mock-retorts.

"What, I can't have some fun while doing desk duty for you?" the raven-haired enforcer asks in an equally mocking hurt tone.

Karen sighs in response. "I'm not Vallejo, girl – I'm just the forensics specialist. I would think there are better uses of my time than sort out unfiled cases. Besides, I pick up your slack after any incident you two put yourselves into results in desk duty for the both of you." She then looks back at the perp as well. "Yep, repeat offender. His first arrest was coincidentally because some 'belties' found him in the arcade during dismissal while they were going for some egg rolls. It was weird when they noted his very high score in the shoot-em-up – pretty high for a guy playing it for four minutes."

The other one smirked. "Hopefully for him… this'll be game over."

*****

On the other end, Fillmore is asking questions while his companion, the freckled redhead, takes down notes for him.

"Well, hope you're happy, man… Another strike on your record. Folsom's not gonna be in the mood for second chances once she gets a look at your file. Anything you want to say about this?"

"Don't think I have…"

"You do know this isn't slap of the wrist verbal reprimand anymore – dudes like you will do serious detention time plus community service here, 'aight?"

"I guess so…"

"Glad to hear it dawg." A brief sigh. "So why this crud now?"

"I dunno?"

A click of the tongue. "Dawg, you've been caught _thrice _for this already. You've been caught with these arcade stubs." He turns to the redhead. "'Scuse me, can I take a look at those notes there?"

The other Safety Patroller is jolted. "Wh-wha? You sure?"

OFFICER DANIEL O'FARRELL

"Don't worry, isn't as if this camera isn't rolling…" He turns to face the camera. "You can look at the footage later, right?"

"Just give the tape back to me guys," the cameraman's voice replies. "Need it for editing."

"Well, if you say so," O'Farrell replies as he gives his small spiral notebook to Fillmore.

Seen later is Fillmore regretting he got the small notebook. "Uhh… O'Farrell… can you come here for a moment?"

"Oh, uhh, if you're talking about the stick figure animation, I can explain-"

"Naw, that's okay… can you help me… read this properly?"

"Oh."

"Just get over here and help me with this one – yo, Ingrid, Tehama!"

As he suspects, both girls are behind him.

"Something wrong Fillmore?" his partner asks.

"Keep an eye out on the perp while Danny, Tehama and I try to make sense of the handwriting here."

She shrugs in response as she sits down beside the truant, taking the chance to notice how the three try to decipher O'Farrell's penmanship.

*****

SIX MINUTES LATER…

"…Well, at least we know you were writing about our perp here," Fillmore comments as he gives the notebook back to its owner. "Try writing in block letters next time, will you?'

"Done and done," O'Farrell answers with an enthusiastic salute.

Now glad at having ended that ordeal, Fillmore looks at the perp. "Well, those notes have nothing new – aside from your arrests you've got to answer for those times you failed to show up after recess or lunch. Now, you're a smart kid, but you've been wasting your smarts on this stuff. And way I see it, classes may be dull and boring, but that's just your restless self talkin', 'aight?"

"C'mon chief, I was just tryin' to cool down…"

"Look dude, you don't have an excuse. You don't work in your parents' store often. You've got weekends off all the time. Don't you think you can just leave everything for later?" No answer but a slight nod from the suspect.

Fillmore now looks at his watch. "Here's what we do. We book you in for your detention for the day. We're gonna allow you one last time to think about this. Once everything's clear, you call for me or my partner and we will vouch for you when Folsom wants something harsher for you. But if you do this again, mark my words we will go medieval on you, understand?"

"Crystal, chief…"

"We don't want you fooling your folks back home that you're learning something here while what you're really doing is just wasting everyone's time, yours included, okay?

"Okay sir."

"We won't see you like this for this or any other stupidity, 'kay?"

"Mm-kay sir."

"Good." Both he and Ingrid help him up before walking him to Safety Patrol HQ. As they walk, Fillmore could only sigh and look at him. He narrates the end of the clip, which shows him handing the suspect over to Tehama before taking him away into custody.

"He kinda reminds me of my old self, y'know – easily bored, always in-your-face proud, the works… At least he's not yet going into worse stuff than what I've gone through, me having been miles worse than him. I guess… I guess I want him to let this all sink in… make him know he's headed to the same trajectory as I did before… before I turned over a new leaf, as it were. If he's smart he's gonna bear whatever penalty he's got. If he's dumb enough he'll try again. If he's dumber he'll end up being a hoodlum… And who knows, if he's really stupid he'll join the Safety Patrol."

*****

**_And so there you have it – another day, another case. More to come soon!_**

**_P.S.: Want to join in the fun? Any ideas welcome! Please submit them via inbox, reviews, or my e-mail address at ! Ideas selected will not only be credited, but will also have the people behind them featured on any current or future work! _**

**_Otherwise, enjoy the fic, read, and review!_**


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